


Christmas Meddling

by shireness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS Secret Santa 2k18, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, and all other good things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shireness/pseuds/shireness
Summary: It was a terrible idea right from the start - asking Emma Swan, possible love of his life, to pretend to be his girlfriend at a family reunion. Having a meddling brother doesn't help matters either.





	Christmas Meddling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [resident_of_storybrooke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resident_of_storybrooke/gifts).



> Written as my Secret Santa gift for @resident-of-storybrooke. I had so much fun chatting with you, darling - I hope you like this!

In retrospect, it was probably a stupid idea right from the start.

The thing is, Killian may not have any immediate family left besides his brother, but when Liam had married Elsa, he’d gained a whole slew of loud and affectionate aunts and uncles who’d taken it upon themselves to take both Jones boys under their wings. Which was all well and good, something that Killian usually appreciates, but lately, there’s been more and more questions about his love life - and lack thereof. They mean well, but they’ve all grown increasingly concerned about him nearly reaching the age of thirty without finding a nice young lady to settle down with, and it’s become a bit cloying, to say the least. It doesn’t help that Liam has already met the woman of his dreams, marrying her two years prior; it helps even less that they’ve had a baby around the Easter holiday. Killian loves his nephew - it’d be hard not to, Nils is just about the cutest, blondest baby in the world - but he knows that the little lad’s existence will add a whole new level of pressure from his family.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time; Emma would be spending Christmas with them anyways. So if she just stayed a few days later, and agreed to come with him to this ridiculous family Christmas…

“We wouldn’t even have to say you were my girlfriend,” he argues. “We’d just have to… not say you’re  _ not _ .”

“Isn’t that still, like, a lie by omission or whatever?” Emma asked, a skeptical expression twisting her features.

“Yes, but it’s for the greater good,” he replies, very seriously. Emma flat-out snorts at that. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” she replies with mock-seriousness. “Look, I’m just saying, I think they’re going to see right through it.”

“ _ Please _ , Emma,” he begs. “I’d owe you forever.”

And oh, he definitely will.

You see, as good of an idea as it seemed at the time, it was also a terrible idea right from the start, because Killian has been in love with Emma from the moment she let him cheat off her astronomy attendance quiz back in their sophomore year of college. She’d smirked in a way that had said she knew  _ exactly _ what he was doing, and Killian had been gone before she even finished tilting the page in his direction. Emma agreeing to attend Christmas dinner with him might solve one problem, but it would create a whole new one as he’ll be thrust into a game of make-believe that echoes the stuff of his dearest dreams.

“Fine,” she finally agrees, much to Killian’s simultaneous relief and dread. “But I’m not driving.”

——— 

At the time, everyone carpooling in Elsa’s little SUV had seemed like a good idea. Of course, that had been before four and a half hours in the car with a fussy baby and the end far too distant from sight. When they finally pull into the hotel’s parking lot, Killian waves his brother and sister-in-law on ahead to settle things with reception. Both rooms are in Liam’s name anyways, since they’re using his hotel points to pay for part of them. 

“You alright?” Emma asks, peering inside the vehicle’s open door to where he’s still sitting in the backseat.

“Aye, just… give me a moment.” Even he can hear the tension in his own voice. With a final deep breath, he swings himself out of the car. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” Emma’s good enough not to pry; maybe she understands that this is all going to be a trial for him, based on what she’s heard, or maybe she just knows  _ him _ . Either way, Killian is grateful to not be asked to dissect it.

Of course, once they do make it past the sliding doors to where Liam waits with the room keys, something about the other man’s expression looks far too suspicious for Killian’s taste.

“What are you up to, Brother?” Killian asks warily, holding out his hand for the key cards. 

“Just reveling in the knowledge that I’ve still got more energy, even if I am older,” he replies, passing the thin plastic over. Killian doesn’t have to hear Emma’s scoff to know that Liam isn’t telling the whole truth. But honestly, with the prospect of facing down so much family time tomorrow, he doesn’t have the energy to push it further. He’s just ready to go up and collapse into bed, maybe watch a little shitty television before falling asleep.

Of course, that’s complicated by the fact that when Killian walks into the rented room, fully ready to realize those plans, there’s only one bed.

He stops so suddenly that Emma runs into him, not able to correct her course in time. “Jeez, would you move, Jones?” she mumbles. 

“Liam gave us the wrong room,” Killian explains, attempting to maneuver back around Emma in the tight hallway of the hotel room. The close contact makes his heart lurch just as always, especially since they’re pressed so closely together.

Faintly, Killian hears Emma’s  _ oh _ of realization as she spots the lone queen bed herself, but he’s too busy trying to find Liam to fix this so he can get some damn sleep to really pay too much attention. Thankfully, his brother is still out in the hall, wrestling with bags and the travel crib. It seems a little odd that Elsa just sauntered into the room with the baby and didn’t come back out immediately again when she saw two beds instead of one, but again - too tired to think about it too hard. 

“You gave me the wrong key, Liam,” he says without preface. “Here, trade with me real quick, I want to go to bed.”

That devious look is back on Liam’s face again, though, and he just chuckles dryly. “No I didn’t, brother.”

“You gave us the room with only one bed,” Killian replies insistently. “C’mon, just grab your stuff, we’ll switch. Don’t make this some big deal.”

“Oh, there’s no mistake, Killian,” Liam laughs, “both rooms only have the one bed.”

“This isn’t funny, Liam,” he warns.

“Check if you want,” his brother offers, “but it’s not a joke.”

Sure enough, when Killian pushes past the assorted baby baggage and into the room, there’s only one bed. Well, and Elsa with Nils in her arms, who is giving him an irritated look that must be born from exhaustion and mild teething-induced deafness. 

Killian stomps back out to the hallway after mumbling an apology in his sister-in-law’s direction. “What the hell kind of game are you playing, Brother?” 

Liam smiles smugly. Killian hates every bit of the expression. “Well, you left the reservations to me, and I just thought this would  _ really  _ sell your harebrained plan.”

“Devious bastard.” 

“You’re welcome!” Liam sing-songs, finally getting a good enough grip on everything to disappear into his own hotel room. With his wife. Who it’s totally fine he shares a bed with. Arse. 

Emma’s leaning in the open doorway of their room when Killian turns back around, wearing an indecipherable expression. Killian sighs. “I suppose you heard all of that?”

“Yeah,” Emma replies, nodding in agreement. “Look, it’s fine, it’s not that big a deal —”

“No, he’s an absolute wanker, you don’t have to pretend otherwise. Just… let me go talk to reception, alright? Maybe we can figure out something.”

“If you’re sure…” Emma looks unconvinced, but Killian knows that sharing a bed with her would be a glorious torture - simultaneously the greatest moment of his existence and the worst test of his willpower. 

“I’m sure. I’ll be back, just be ready to relocate.”

———

The front desk is absolutely no help.

Well, that’s not strictly true. The receptionist tries her best to be helpful, she really does, but there’s no more rooms to be had, which is still not helpful in the least to Killian.

“Can you arrange for a cot, at least?” he sighs, barely resisting the urge to just drop his head onto the desk. That probably wouldn’t get him what he wants, unfortunately.

“Of course, sir, we can arrange for that to be brought up immediately,” she replies, visibly relieved. God, Killian hopes he hasn’t accidentally been just as much of an arse as his brother has acted; the poor lass doesn’t deserve that. 

Killian takes a brief detour to the bar for a glass of rum before making his way back upstairs; if there was ever an evening that deserves a drink, it’s this one. The hotel staff are just leaving from setting up the cot. True to his request, Emma’s still sitting on the bed in her clothes and shoes, seemingly having made no move to get more comfortable in his absence. Seeing him come in, she quirks an eyebrow in Killian’s direction, shooting a little zap of guilt through him. This is  _ not _ what she signed up for.

“It’s the best I could do,” he says quietly, sitting down on the edge of the awful contraption to finally work off his shoes. The springs creak alarmingly beneath him, not at all muffled by the thin mattress pad and hotel linens.

“That’s not - you’re not actually planning to  _ sleep _ on that thing, are you?” Emma asks.

“I don’t see what other choice we have. Don’t even try volunteering, Swan,” he warns, “I won’t even hear you entertain the idea, not when you’re doing me such a favor already.”

“Okay, that’s not what I’m suggesting, like, at all,” she huffs back. “But that can’t be comfortable at all.”

Killian shrugs. “I’ve had worse.” That’s true, actually; he’s slept on the floor in the history department a few times, as well as on some very uncomfortable academic couches. This cot can’t be too much worse than that - though it does seem like it’ll give those memories a run for their money.

“I’m just saying, there’s another option,” Emma replies, almost indignant. Killian doesn’t quite follow, but oh, she’s lovely when she gets worked up like this.

_ Settle, boy _ , Killian sternly tells himself before trying to turn his last few functioning brain cells back to the matter at hand. “And what, pray tell, would that be?”

“We share,” she proposes, stating it like it’s the most obvious solution in the world. Killian does remember now her hinting at something of the sort before he left for the desk.

“Swan, I couldn’t possibly do that to you…” he tries to protest, but Emma cuts him off with a raised hand. 

“I’m just saying - you’re not going to get any sleep on the cot. We’re both adults; we could handle it. I’m just saying, I’m fine with it if you want.”

“I’ll be alright, Swan,” he assures Emma. A real mattress does sound nice, but sharing a bed with Emma, the possible love of his life, just sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

Better the cot from hell than that particular variety of torment.

——— 

He lasts five minutes on the awful cot before he changes his mind.

“Emma?” he calls tentatively into the dark. If she’s already asleep, he won’t move, he’ll just deal with it so as not to wake her up — 

Emma huffs out a laugh. “Get up here, Killian.”

He goes. 

Of course, sharing a bed with Emma presents its own challenges. Somehow the space already smells like that pomegranate soap she prefers, the sheets warmed with her radiating heat, and Killian has to give a very stern talk to some parts of his anatomy to  _ behave themselves _ lest this turn from an uncomfortable encounter into a downright mortifying one. 

Uncomfortable is definitely the word; Killian keeps himself very carefully on his side of the bed, arms regimentally at his sides so they don’t wander or accidentally hit Emma. He needs to try and relax to get some sleep, but relaxation won’t come when he’s trying so hard to keep track of all his limbs and other appendages and not intrude on Emma’s space.

She’s having none of that though. With a great huff - he can practically hear the eye roll, though he can’t see it in the dark - she flops over from where she’d been laying on her side, facing away from Killian, to move directly into his space. Crowding against his side, arm thrown around his waist, Emma mutters into the space between his collarbone and his heart, “Stop overthinking it. Just… go to sleep, alright? It’s too late for this shit.”

Killian chuckles. “As you wish, love,”

Having Emma in his arms is just as comfortable, just as  _ right _ as he’d feared. However, he heeds her command to relax, and before he even knows it, drops into a deep and peaceful slumber.

———

It’s almost a relief to wake up and feel Emma still draped all over him - almost. At least he knows that way that the events of the night before weren’t a dream. 

However, there’s other complications. Emma’s leg has somehow draped across his own legs and thigh in their sleep - something that wouldn’t necessarily be a problem, except for certain less-than-cooperative parts of his body. It’s just a biological reaction, he knows, just his body testing all its systems, but she’d just have to move her thigh up a  _ little bit _ further and they’d all really be in trouble. Explaining the effect Emma has on his morning wood isn’t something Killian would ever like to attempt - he’d rather die of the mortification from it all first.

He’s just making headway on that little problem - remembering his elderly uncle’s speedo in the sauna at the last reunion does the trick nicely - when Emma shifts closer, starting to emerge from the depths of her sleep at last. The happy little hum she gives doesn’t help either.

As all his hard work reverses itself, Killian forces himself to slip out of bed and quickly move to the bathroom. As much as he wants to remain in bed with Emma, it’s no longer worth the risk, especially as she begins to wake up.

By the time he emerges from the bathroom and his long shower, Emma’s awake and flipping through the TV channels.

“Did you sleep well?” she asks, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eye that tells him she has something else in mind.

“I did, thank you,” he replies cautiously, waiting for the punchline.

“Told you so.” Her comeback is instantaneous and smug, the smirk on her face only underlining the matter.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You were right,” he grumbles, but there’s a smile teasing at the corner of his own mouth. His wake-up call aside, it actually was some of the best sleep he’s gotten in ages. “You want some breakfast before we have to face the music?”

“Oh, always,” she replies, scampering out of bed to go get ready. He hadn’t really paid attention to those little pajama shorts last night, but God, they’re killing him today, especially knowing how the soft skin of her thighs feels pressing against his own. 

How he’ll survive this trip is beyond him.

———

The only thing that makes Liam’s smug expression all through breakfast at all bearable is how clearly displeased Elsa is about the whole thing. Killian thinks he even hears her mumble something about  _ Daddy’s a meddler, isn’t he?  _ into the top of Nils’ head. It’s the only thing that keeps him from smearing cheap fake maple syrup down the front of Liam’s knit sweater. 

Things get better once they actually get to Elsa’s aunt’s house for the main event - though that may just be in comparison to how Liam spends the entire twenty minute car ride from the hotel pestering him about  _ What are you going to say when they ask you about your girlfriend, Killy? How’d you meet, Killy? Will we get to host another wedding, Killy?  _ It’s incredibly obnoxious; literally anything is better than that. 

Still, it’s a little painful when Liam’s proved correct; as soon as various family member are able to pull themselves away from the baby, they’re over demanding to know all the details of his and Emma’s supposed relationship. Emma’s a good sport about it, though she does shoot him an “I told you so” look after the first excited  _ So when did this happen? _ She’s earned that much, he figures. Still, she smiles and lets Killian slip an arm around her waist and smoothly lies about the relationship they’re supposed to have been in since April. Killian, in a wistful moment, almost believes her recounting of how their friendship suddenly turned into something  _ more _ . If anyone was to look his way, he’d doubtless have an adoring look on his face as he watches Emma. Then again, that’s nothing new; Emma’s been his sun, his moon, and all his stars for nearly longer than he can remember. 

He learns things about Emma through her answers too, things he’d never be able to ask normally; her idea of a perfect date is a stop for pizza and a movie, she’s secretly a sucker for flowers, and when a particularly insistent aunt presses about children, he learns she’s not opposed to the idea - though not anytime soon. Carefully, Killian files those facts away in his mind, just in case he ever gets the chance to test some of them out.

Yes, there’s still a lot of intrusive questions, but it feels more manageable with Emma at his side. Killian readily counts the day as a success, and the way Emma dozes off on his shoulder on the ride back is only a bonus.

Of course, Liam can’t leave well enough alone. That was always asking for far too much. Emma’s barely closed the door to the hotel room when Liam smirks. “I hear you didn’t use the cot last night, Killy. Looking forward to snuggling up to Emma again?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Killian replies as coolly as he can manage. The effort fails completely, as he’s still too irritated to pull off anything but heated conversation where his brother is concerned.

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re not enjoying it. I know you better than that, and lying doesn’t suit you.”

“No, you know what? This is a  _ torment _ , Liam,” Killian hisses. “Admit it, you did this just to torture me.” Faintly, Killian hears a door click, but he pays it no attention. 

“No, I did it to help you, little brother. I thought it would push you in the right direction. Clearly, you’re too damn stubborn for even that!” Liam shoots back.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What, you thought the rest of us haven’t noticed the longing looks and doey eyes?” Liam scoffs. “It’s so painfully obvious how completely in love you are with that woman. Everyone with two eyes who isn’t named Emma Swan can see it.”

“It’s still none of your damn business!”

“Fine, maybe not!” his brother admits. “But you seem fully prepared to just pine away for the rest of time. I just thought I’d try and help things along, maybe spur a conversation or make you realize that if you like waking up next to her and want to do that on a more permanent basis, you need to fucking talk to her!” Liam sighs heavily, seemingly attempting to force out some of his frustration in the exhalation. “I just want you to be  _ happy _ , brother,” he pleads. “I may have gone about that the wrong way, but it was not intended to torment you.”

“It still wasn’t your place, Liam,” he grumbles.

“I know.”

Killian sighs himself, running a hand through his hair. “I suppose, though…”

“Yeah?”

“I suppose if you’ve gone to all this meddling, I shouldn’t waste such a moment, should I?”

“That’s the spirit, brother,” Liam finally grins, more genuinely this time, before pushing Killian in the direction of his own hotel room.

When Killian makes it inside, Emma’s already in bed, facing away from the door on her side. “Sorry I took so long, Swan,” he tells her quietly, moving to undress and brush his own teeth.

“That’s fine,” she replies, but something sounds off. The words are short, clipped. She sounds irritated, quite frankly; it’s not the way he’d envisioned this going when Liam pushed him towards the door.

Killian quickly runs through his own bedtime rituals before sliding beneath the comforter and sheets. Oddly, Emma makes no move to react to his arrival, though her body is far too tense for her to be asleep.

“Well, that went better than I expected today,” he finally comments, just to put something out there. Anything is better than this tense silence.

“Yep.” Even in that short word, he can feel her anger. Quickly, Killian searches for the words to make it better.

“Thank you for coming with me. I can’t thank you enough, truly, this would have been a nightmare otherwise,” he settles on offering.

“Yep,” she says again. Killian could really grow to hate that word. After a pause, she finally continues. “Sorry that this part has been such a  _ torture _ for you. A real  _ torment _ , I hear.”

Killian suddenly, in a terrible moment of realization, knows exactly what’s the matter. “You heard that, didn’t you.”

“Oh yeah,” Emma bites out, finally flopping around to face him in the bed. “Just what a girl wants to hear when she comes out to ask about mouthwash.”

“Look Swan, it’s not what you think —”

“Oh really?” she snaps back. “Because you seemed pretty clear out there. God, I’m sorry it’s so  _ awful _ sharing a bed with me.”

“Now that is not what I meant —”

“You said it was  _ torture _ sharing a bed with me, Killian, what the fuck else could that mean?”

“It’s torture because it’s  _ perfect _ , okay?” he finally breaks. “It’s torture because I love you, because this is everything I’ve ever wanted, and I know it’s just for a couple of nights —”

“You love me?” Emma cuts in. Her face is doing that unreadable thing again, and it scares Killian more than anything else. 

Heaving a resigned sigh, Killian nods quickly, casting his eyes down and away from Emma’s face. “Aye. I’ve always loved you, Swan, right from the beginning. And I know you don’t feel the same, that’s absolutely fine, but it’s made the past 24 hours the sweetest torture.”

Suddenly, there’s a hand drawing his chin back up so their eyelines meet once again. “Why would you ever think I didn’t feel the same?” Emma asks, a new smile gracing her face.

“You never said anything,” Killian replies, shrugging as best he can from his reclined position. Dare he hope?

“Well let me say it now,” Emma grins. Her hand moves up from his chin to rest against Killian’s face. “I love you, Killian. Maybe not right from the beginning, but not long after. We’ve both been so stupid for so long,” she chuckles, moisture starting to pool at the bottom of her eyes.

Killian carefully brings his thumb to brush underneath her eye to catch the tears before they can fall. “I know, love,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry to have made you wait.”

Emma laughs a little at that, treating him to the happy smile he so loves. “You gonna make me wait any longer, Jones?” she teases.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he murmurs back. Still, he moves slowly and carefully, inching his face closer across the bed sheets until his nose brushes Emma’s. This is a major moment for him, for them  _ both _ , the moment where everything changes; he’s determined to document each second of it in his mind so he can remember it in vivid detail for the rest of his life.

He should have known, though, that Emma’s never had the same patience he has. She’s ultimately the one to make that final surge forward to caress his lips with her own. It’s unbearably gentle at first as they learn the geography of each other’s mouths, which suits Killian just fine. After years of staring at Emma’s lips and pretending he’s not, it’s exhilarating to learn exactly how full and soft they are, sliding against his own. Things quickly deepen, however, tongues advancing and retreating in turn. Somehow, his hands have ended up resting low on Emma’s hips, and he sees absolutely no reason to move them - especially when she moans after a playful nip at her bottom lip. God, he loves that sound; he’d be happy to hear it over and over again for the rest of his life. As Emma hitches a leg over his hip, he can’t help but give into the urge he so poorly repressed that morning and properly hauls her on top of his body. Emma seems to like that as she attacks his mouth with a new ferocity and begins to grind down on his lap, where his arousal is making itself very obviously apparent.

“God, how did we hold out so long?” Killian wonders after a particularly delicious roll of Emma’s hips against his groin. “How did we hold out  _ last night _ ?”

“I don’t know,” Emma replies, whipping her pajama shirt over her head, “but I’m more than willing to make up for it now.”

And really, the worst idea of all would be to argue with that.

———

“No more wasting time, alright?” Killian says once they’ve finally caught their breath, naked limbs still twined together. 

Emma just laughs. “I think I can be okay with that.”

———

Next Christmas, there’s no more lying about their relationship - just a ring to show off to the assorted masses.

Killian and Emma both like it much better that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
